


A Monster

by Emriel



Series: Taken [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Dark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Extremely Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Innocent Harry, M/M, Master/Pet, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stockholm Syndrome, Submissive Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 17:45:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14025390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emriel/pseuds/Emriel
Summary: The Dark Lord captures him in his second year, and he's been a prisoner ever since.Sometimes Harry wishes for better days. He longs to be back in Hogwarts before the nightmare began. They tell him the whole world was burning with muggles getting killed like flies.Harry doesn't know why but the dark lord finds him precious and would not have any other.





	A Monster

**Author's Note:**

> Yey. I finally went and edited this thing *-* so it's slightly different. I'm quite happy with the ending. Also, Harry is thirteen here. It's a bit disturbing so if it's not your thing, please don't read. Harry is a kid so I don't think he knows that much about love yet so he's a little lost about how to categorize his feelings...

The passage of time seemed nonexistent, Harry mourned. He felt eternal loneliness. He could not remember how long he's been a prisoner. His last memory of Hogwarts was of the basilisk biting into him and staring at the corpse of Ginny Weasley.

He heard the whole world was burning and muggles were getting killed like flies, but the death eaters loved to lie. They told him stories of how the dark mark was upon every flag of magical soil and how he should be a good boy and strive to serve the new cause. They told him how important he was as they burned him, and cut him apart, making him watch how his friends have all but forgotten him. How no one knew of Harry Potter… how he would be alone forever.

The child in him shut it out and sometimes it got too much that he would retaliate… so now he was getting punished.

He pulled at the chains that kept his hands above his head. It just hurt so much. Everything was white and he felt like screaming but he was terrified they'll come back and cut him up again. They sometimes cut him slowly, and sometimes they wanted him bleeding on the floor with puddles of blood.

Lately he was being a good boy, so he's been told and they were lenient on his punishments but in an accident, his magic scalded one of the Dark Lord's favorite lieutenants. It was fun to see her pretty face melting and her screaming in pain until he realized that the irrational glee did not come from him. It wasn't him and when he tried to call for help, to apologize, to make it right, they locked him up. For days… he couldn't count.

There were bruises around his wrists and as he sat against the white pillar, he thought about a dream he had, where he was still back in Hogwarts. It felt so long. He didn't even know if it was real. Sometimes he thought he just imagined his time in Hogwarts, and it was only when they showed him their faces that he remebered. He was losing his grip of his past, being molded into whatever they were trying to mold him.

He didn't know his purpose in the new regime, only that he was important to them, and big dirty secret. Only the most trusted Death Eaters were able to see him. Bellatrix he hated the most, because she treated him like a baby, and never stopped finding ways to humiliate him, and hurt him.

She said Harry was not worth of _his_ time. That surely, what he deserved was to be treated like an animal, and nothing more. So she made him cast curses, and when he couldn't, she'd cast it on him.

He hated the cruciatus the most because she could hide it from others, that she hurt him and they would believe her but that didn't mean he wanted to hurt her.

He had to learn, and if he didn't learn, he would be punished. It was totally unfair.

What was the point of hurting him all the time?

He wanted to go back and escape the pain. For someone to save him. He wished endlessly that someone would just save him from the monsters, because that's what they all were. They had no speck of humanity left in their blackened souls. They made him watch what happened to others who defied them, cut their tongues off, expelling their entrails, making mothers watch their babies get killed or be forced to eat them, siblings raping each other, the slow organized descent to chaos of the wizarding and muggle community in the toxic hands of _his_ empire.

And how he was their _God_ , the perfect and beautiful demon, so power hungry, so driven with the desire to dominate all that was known transcending all the Dark Lords before him. Voldemort would not stop until all knew his name and _feared_ to speak it.

Then here he was, a mere prisoner, being tortured for a crime he did not commit, for not prostrating himself as madly as all others would... for being Harry. He didn't want to be here. He wished someone would save him.

Someone.

" _Why are you crying?"_

Harry stiffened at the hissing voice and tried to stand up but _he_ was so close. Too close. The red eyes of the monster stared back at him. Cruel and cold. His magic was oppressive and corrupting. It felt like slime was crawling all over him, touching him, infecting. This monster.

Lord Voldemort was looking at him, inspecting him, with his red hellfire eyes and a dangerous smile.

Harry closed his eyes in fear and felt a gentle hand lift up his chin.

" _Are you scared little one?"_

Harry whimpered and tried to pull away but he felt the manacles raise his hands above the wall. A broken moan of pain left his mouth and more tears came out of his eyes.

"How weak. How truly fragile you've become … it's a pity. You've hurt Bella… tell me was it worth it?"

Bellatrix Lestrange squirmed on the floor like a worm when he touched her face and watched it burn. For the longest time, Harry watched in fascination until it all came crashing down that he was doing something _entirely unlike him._

" _No… I didn't mean to…_ "

Harry winced when sharp nails traced his collar, leaving red lines.

"Little one, what should I do with you?"

Harry just wanted to disappear. He hated him. He hated him but more than the hate, he was just so scared, so tired of fighting.

" _I'm sorry…_ " And Harry was. He just wanted to go back to his _routine_. It was almost better to deal with death eaters than deal with the Dark Lord himself. Harry knew it by then because a part of him called out to this monster and he felt like he was losing himself every single time he let the monster close to him. It was as if the Dark Lord was corrupting him… and that Harry Potter was dying.

The monster brushed his thumb on his eyelids, trying to wipe the tears and that was when Harry opened his eyes to see red _RED_ **red** staring back at him.

He screamed as his mind was assaulted.

He then felt it, lips touching him. When they touched, it was as if he lost all sense of self, and Harry wished almost as much as the pain would go that the pleasant comforting feeling would go away. A hand untied the flimsy robe that was given to him, and with one pull it slipped away, leaving him naked.

He felt violated, and the chains pulled him higher, until his feet was dangling off the ground.

"You sstill think I'm a monster, my dearest."

Harry found himself saying, "No… _you're not_."

And to this, the man smiled, pleased. "You should know I do not like it when you lie, Harry."

Harry froze, and whimpered, trying not to sob. " _Sorry... sorry... please don't... don't hurt..._ "

Harry's lip trembled when a finger traced it, again and again. " _Shhh._ "

The Dark Lord came closer, and Harry found the man kissing his neck, nibbling and biting it with his too sharp teeth. His neck, was already a mess of cuts and bite marks. Harry endured it, trying not to speak, knowing it would displease him.

Droplets of blood fell on the floor.

"What am I, Harry?", the man whispered against his neck.

Harry struggled for words, memories flashing of the first day he was imprisoned. When he was locked in a damp room having no water or food to drink. When he had to beg for clothes and for the pain to stop.

" _Master… you're my… master…_ "

Harry whimpered when the man licked his neck, carefully, while hands trailed along his body.

"What happens when you disobey me?"

Harry felt his breath hitch when a hand settled upon his heart, and he could almost hear his heartbeat too loud against his ears.

" _I get… punished."_

"Yes... and yet, you continue to disobey. Perhaps I should feed you to the dementors. You were very obedient after being together with them."

Flashes of the inhuman flesh, coming close, attempting to suck out his soul, the happy memories fading until the bad ones appeared, again and again, and again. Screams, the loss, the torture

" _No… no not them… please master. I'll be good. I'm sorry I hurt her… So please-"_

A hand closed around his neck, and Harry struggled to breathe.

"I can do whatever I want with you, little one… but today is a special day so I will grant you mercy. Lord Voldemort can be forgiving."

The chains broke and he fell against the dark lord. Harry could feel his face wet with tears and all he could do was press against his tormentor because it was suddenly so cold.

"You're learning."

The dark lord carried him, his body light from the abuse. The world was a dizzying mess of colors until he found himself in another familiar prison. The dark lord's bed chambers. The dark lord allowed him to share his bed when he took the dark mark on his back.

He was placed in the middle of the bed and very gently covered with a soft velvety green sheet. Harry just let his exhausted body lie down.

For a time, he lay there, watching the Dark Lord summon his followers, and give order after order, even when he was in his own chambers. Then, Harry stiffened when a familiar presence appeared by his side, Severus Snape, looking cold and unforgiving. Glaring at him, as always, carrying potion bottles, that he placed near the bedside table.

Harry was lying on the bed naked.

He felt as if he couldn't breathe, humiliated that his former professor could see him in such a state. Soon, a nameless wizard came, wearing a white mask and a white robe.

After months of the same treatment, Harry knew better than to protest when the comfort of thick blanket was removed, and diagnostic charm was cast, the medi witch began listing his injuries, "A badly healed rib, a broken finger, bruised wrists, bruised arms, fresh wounds on his neck, and arms. The tendons of his feet seem to be healing properly but they are still damaged, so he will not be able to walk until the process is healed. Possible scarring, on his hands from the wandless use of fiendfyre but Severus has prepared for a salve. Severe lack of sleep, starvation, dehydration, and... I suggest, my lord, that you bring him back to the mind healers since his panic attacks have increased. He is currently experiencing one as we speak."

"Is that so? Heal what you can, and I will send him there myself, tomorrow."

The impersonal touches left Harry numb, and he couldn't stop gasping, like a fish, until Voldemort was beside him, smiling, holding his hand.

" _Calm down, Harry. You promised me you'll be good. They're healing you. Breathe,_ " the dark lord commanded. Harry followed his voice, and eventually, his panicked breathing slowed until he had his eyes closed.

* * *

 

Waking up next to the Dark Lord was a terrible affair that made him realize he was still stuck in a nightmare with nowhere out.

He'd fallen asleep from the healers, and from the amount of potions Severus forced fed him, his body barely responding to his command. Voldemort was so close, close enough that he could count individual lashes on his eyes.

"Master?" Harry asked, his voice very small. He was becoming disturbed at the way the Dark Lord was eyeing him, as he hovered atop him, the dark lord's knees caging him on either side, and his lips dangerously close to his.

"I have a present for you," a whisper close to his ear.

Harry turned away, not wanting any of it. Nothing good came from the Dark Lord. It was as if everything came with a price so he bit his lip and stayed silent.

"Shouldn't you be overjoyed, little one?"

Harry felt the hands combe through his hair and slowly felt himself relaxing even when he hated every bit of it. He felt the soft press of lips against his forehead.

Then his chin was tilted, and soon, there were lips on him again.

It was a deep kiss and he didn't know what to do he knew he didn't want it but the tongue was moving and he couldn't think. It felt like he was drowning. Like there as an invisible pull that was going to devour him. Like this was right... He felt horrified for feeling that way. He pushed the man with what feeble strength he had and gasped for breath. _Tom_ looked at him like he wanted to eat him.

"Please…"

Harry murmured when the Voldemort stopped kissing him. Red eyes devoured the green, his fragile captive couldn't even move an inch, like a sacrifice waiting to be devoured.

" _You're so innocent little one. You will do just fine._ "

Harry flinched and the dark lord's gaze darkened. He turned away when the dark lord vanished his clothes. The soft sheets that covered Harry's leg vanished as well. He could only lay pliant as the dark lord spread his legs.

" _Do you know what I"m going to do, Harry?"_

Harry shook his head, and his weak hands tried to push away. "Please... Please master."

"I'm going to make you **_mine._ "**

Voldemort smiled and it was all teeth.

" _Please don't do this… I don't… don't want…it_ " Harry squirmed when a slippery finger pushed past his tight sphincter.

"Shh… relax Harry."

Harry couldn't. It hurt. "No… no…" The Dark Lord looked down at him, red eyes smoldering and filled with satisfaction. His lips a sinful red, descending atop his, and stiffling his cries. For all the dark lord's beauty, he was still a monster.

"I promise… You'll enjoy it.

Then there were two and three more fingers. He was so young, he was just a child. He knew it was wrong. The older people talked about this. It wasn't supposed to happen so soon. IT had to stop. He didn't want it. Didn't want him... He felt violated.

" _Master…. Please… it hurts…"_

Harry looked up, eyes watering and he saw the dark lord looking at him intently. "You're mine, Harry… _Mine. All mine, and I will make you sing for me._ "

Harry tried to close his legs but Tom forced it open.

" _Please stop…_ " The fingers left him and Harry thought he could breathe again.

Harry grit his teeth when he felt something blunt push past his insides and it hurt so much his nails dug on his hands.

The dark lord kissed his cheek and whispered on his ear, " _Happy birthday, Harry."_

Then he began to move. Harry screamed.

"Nghh… ahhh… no… take… take it out hnngh.."

Harry, unused to the girth, tried to push away but hands pinned both of his on top of his head.

" _You'll get used to it, Harry. So pretty when you're in pain._ "

Harry bit his lips. He was no stranger to pain after his long captivity but this was a different kind. IT felt wrong. Really wrong… and then he felt something tear.

He cried out at this.

"It Hurts… please stop… master…"

Harry whimpered when the pace slowed down. Harry tried to turn away his head but he felt magic compel him to look, to submit. He felt like he was getting eaten alive.

" _Kiss me._ "

The Dark Lord's pupils were dilated, and he leaned down, moving in a slow pace of punishing his insides. Each thrust was tearing him open.

Lips pressed against him but only just so, and Harry did as he was told, kissing, sloppily, having never done it before. He felt the man smile against his lips.

" _Say thank you."_

Harry looked up at the blurry face of his master. He could feel the tears leak from his eyes. He could hardly breathe, could hardly speak. He was just a bundle of nerves that protested from the pain and the humiliation of whatever it was that was happening.

" _Th-Thank… you."_

The Dark Lord thrust hard, and a hand closed around his forgotten sex.

Harry moaned weakly at this.

"You don't know how long I've resisted…" The Dark Lord thrusted, "taking you."

Harry gasped. It felt good.

" _Found it._ "

Harry's toes curled, and the Dark Lord grinned at this. Roughly going in and out and all harry could feel was the joint feeling of pain and pleasure. The Dark Lord let go of the wrists and pulled at the boy's hair, staring at the exquisite eyes welling with tears.

" _You like this, don't you? My precious horcrux._ "

Harry brought his hand to his mouth began to it, not wanting to hear the sounds, the horrible sounds of "Nggh ahh… ahh-"and the Dark Lord laughed. He affixed the boy's wrists on top of his head with magic wanting none of that. He wanted to see the faces the child was making.

The green green eyes begging for him.

" _You're mine Harry. Say it._ "

Harry gasped… " _I'm yours._ "

"Good boy."

Magic saturated the very air and Harry could only cry out while the Dark Lord fucked him hard. He felt the Dark Lord splay open his legs just a bit wider and some part of him knew that they should stop it because it was wrong… but he didn't know why when it felt so good.

"So tight. So wanton… all mine."

Harry panicked as a really hot feeling… like he was going to pee but not… came over him. And streams of white fluid came and he looked away in shame but the Dark :ord kept moving and the really good feeling kept him screaming as his orgasm tore through his prepubescent body.

He whimpered when the Dark Lord choked him again, and he could only gasp out for breath. Black spots dotting his vision. Harry tried to pry away the hands.

Then the Dark Lord seemed to still, it was all the warning he had until the Dark Lord came inside of him. Voldemort stayed inside of him, cheeks, flushed, his wavy hair undone and plastered to the side of his face. He was wearing a very satisfied smile and magic seem to curl about him lazily. Voldemort pulled out and Harry felt something leak out of him.

Harry thought it was all over until the Dark Lord dragged his hand on his stomach, hands dipping on the wetness that pooled there. Sticky. Harry felt so tired and used. The new form of torture was something strange and intimate. The thirteen year old felt disgust, at what happened… dirty, damaged-

" _Taste yourself, Harry… this is proof that you liked it._ "

Harry did, far too gone to disobey. He licked the offered fingers, slowly until he could feel the Dark Lord's satisfaction.

"Good boy."

The Dark Lord waved a hand and magic did its wonders, cleaning them. The sheets that pooled on the floor settled around them comfortably.

Harry could tell, the Dark Lord was happy.

"Why… why me?…" Harry whispered after the long pregnant silence.

The Dark Lord scoffed at the question, "yes, why exactly, holder of my soul. Do you think I would have any other?"

Harry frowned at the question, wondering what the Dark Lord meant by having another. He tried to move and grimaced in pain. He began asking questions, unable to shut his mouth, "You… you're powerful enough… to take this piece of you inside of me… I wont be a horcrux anymore… and you can kill me…"

"That is true. I could simply take it out, and kill you…yes… I've longed to do that too."

"Then why?... why are you doing this to me?"

"You truly are too innocent, precious. I should just lock you up forever, away from the world, pure…"

Harry fell silent at the suggestion, horrified even.

Harry looked away, "I want to know…" Harry moved closer, despite the danger, "Please tell me?" Harry felt his voice break at this. He always wanted to know if there a point to his suffering.

The Dark Lord turned, leaning over the child, "I'm a monster, Harry. Do you want to see as I see the world? Do you want to feel it?"

Harry shook his head but as always he had no choice.

And soon, he saw himself in the Dark Lord's eyes and felt what he felt.

Harry Potter, a battered broken little thing on the bed, bruised, bleeding, and so frail. He held his soul, yet he remained pure untainted. Magic clung to him, the same magic that filled him with so much power that was raw and uncultivated.

There was an all-consuming need to possess him, to keep it safe, to make it his. He hungered for it. He hungered for his body, to lay claim to what belonged to him, in every way possible. He had a taste but it felt like it was never enough. He sought to _take_ and _take_ and it was almost too much to continue resisting. To resist tearing into the pretty flesh until the green of the eyes sparkle in all its vividness. Like emeralds. He almost wanted to pluck it out.

Then there was anger, and hate, and the desire to see blood. He wanted bones to break and hear him scream. Beg for mercy. …Until he was reduced to a mere wreck, dependent, needy. _His_.

Harry gasped, shivering, wondering if there was any hope at all left for him. Harry was shivering at the aftershocks of emotion as he came back to his body, and tried to rid himself of the insane glee, of desire that the dark lord possessed for him.

"Please kill me. I can't... live like this master..."

"Never… you are too precious to die. Don't you see how precious you are to me?"

Harry tried to summon an ounce of hate, but he was too afraid, and too tired.

He felt faint, almost sick. The bed dipped and there was another kiss to his forehead.

Harry stayed in bed, his body hurting in ways he didn't understand and cried. "…please let me go… master…? Please... I don't know... how long I'll last... no more... I'm tired... so tired..." he sobbed. Harry wanted to die.

The Dark Lord pressed him closer.

He didn't know why it hurt but his chest hurt. He wasn't sure why. He didn't understand why it could hurt… was it because he didn't want it? Was it because he did?

Was it because he didn't want to be left alone? He didn't know.

" _Master… do you know why my chest hurts?"_

Voldemort caressed his hair. And slowly, he felt magic begin to heal him.

Harry felt the well of loneliness burst through. "Do you really want to know, Harry?"

Harry murmured, "Yes."

"You will know soon enough…"

The Dark Lord disentangled himself, and began to summon his robes. Harry felt his chest squeeze some more. It hurt. A charm was whispered and he was once again clean, the blanket covered him. With another wave of a hand, the fireplace was roaring and Harry felt the warmth begin to soak through his skin.

But he felt frozen.

"I've stayed here long enough. You should rest. I will send you to your mind healers tomorrow, then once you are able to walk, your classes will resume but you will no longer see Bellatrix. It has come to my notice you've been telling the truth, and she abused her authority over you. I saw to her punishment personally. I promised no harm will come to you, if you remain good."

Voldemort began moving away.

"Don't… leave me."

There was only silence after that, and the Dark Lord looked at the hand holding the hem of his robes.

Wide green eyes were filled with need.

"Why is that?"

Voldemort's voice was slow and gentle, "Tell me my pet, I wish to know."

Harry tried to wrack his brain for an explanation... of why... he felt so desperate that he wanted him to stay, that he wanted to stop him, when he never did before, but all he knew was that he couldn't stand the thought of being left alone again. "I don't know... master... I just..."

He felt like crying again, wanting nothing more than to be comforted. He was hiccuping and wiping his eyes. It was so wrong... but he had no one else. No one.

He just wanted it to stop hurting.

Voldemort looked at him concerned and sat down the bed, very gently tilted the boy's chin, staring at him with red eyes. "I've been too harsh on you, haven't I. How can I ignore such a small request? The world can wait."

It was perhaps because he was so exhausted that he had no control of what he felt, that the child in him felt so relieved that he felt _happiness_ and it showed on his face. Harry visibly relaxed at the words and said, "Thank you."

" _Rest. I am not going anywhere._ "

Voldemort sat once more on the massive bed, summoned a book that flipped pages in the air, while a hand combed his hair, lulling him to a state of comfort. The tears have stopped.

Later he felt something heavier, cold and scaly brush and settle against his legs. Harry sleepily watched Nagini come closer to scent him, before conversing with their master. Wrapped between the two of them, Harry felt a sense of _alien_ completeness.

Harry fought against the exhaustion but eventually it won, and slowly fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know your thoughts~


End file.
